morning light slants through spring woods
and the grass grows green again
three blue bags of roadside trash
and the grass grows green again
air is soft at dark’s approach
and the grass grows green again
screams of trees ripped from the earth
and the grass grows green again
early birdsong noisy joy
and the grass grows green again
news of rising hate brings dread
and the grass grows green again
summer stars the hunter gone
and the grass grows green again
prayers whispered for the world
and the grass grows green again
truth is not a skin we shed
and the grass grows green again
______________________________
Day 26. A call and response poem.
Life With Horace 
October 20, 2016 at 3:58 pm
Catching up on old emails, I enjoyed this call and response about seasonal, political, and human-caused changes, with all the accompanying foreboding, anticipation, and prayer. A fitting refrain for spring. We need another now for fall.
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October 22, 2016 at 12:43 am
Thanks Susan. It was from one of the National Poetry Month (NaPoWriMo) prompts.I’ll think on that.
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